


Georgia Revival

by jinxed_wood



Category: Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-04-19
Updated: 2011-04-19
Packaged: 2017-10-18 09:30:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/187459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jinxed_wood/pseuds/jinxed_wood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Damon and Elena's trip to Georgia takes an unexpected turn...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**PART ONE**

 

Why hadn’t he seen it coming?

Damon wiped the steam from the sink window and looked at his reflection coolly. The long, hot shower had removed the gasoline from his hair and his skin, and Elena had somehow tracked down a twenty four hour laundrette, but but his heightened sense of smell could still pick up the fumes clinging to him.

His eyes darkened at the vivid recollection of his humiliation. Nobody did that to him, and got away with it - _nobody_. He was going to reach into her chest and rip out her heart. How _dare_ the bitch betray him like that. He'd _trusted_ her.

He shrugged on his jeans, still warm from the dryer, and stalked out of the bathroom. Elena was sitting crosslegged on the drab covers of the motel's double bed.

“Are you okay?” she asked, eyeing him dubiously.

“Peachy. Never been better,” he said shortly as he headed for the door. “Catch some sleep. We'll be leaving first thing in the morning.”

“Where are you going, Damon?” she asked promptly, ignoring his words as she leapt to her feet. “You're not going after him, are you?”

“Now why would I do that?” he drawled. “I mean all he did was attack and kidnap you, and then pour gasoline all over me.”

“You _did_ kill his girlfriend,” she pointed out, in a maddening reasonable tone of voice. “And he did let us go – remember?”

“I remember,”damon said. Elena Gilbert, going toe to toe with a pissed off vampire in order to save his skin. It was not a sight he'd soon forget.

“So don't go,” she said, hands on hips as she scowled at him. She really had no sense of fear... he may have to fix that.

“I'm not going to find _him_ ,” he said, “I left my jacket at Bree's place, and I forgot to pay our tab before we left.”

“Oh, right.” He saw the tension leech out of her shoulders, but then she hadn't put two and two together yet, and he wasn't about to fill in the blanks for her. His triumph was short lived, however, as she picked up her jacket. “Lets go,” she said.

“What makes you think you're welcome to tag along?” he asked, exasperated. “Maybe I want to give Bree a _proper_ goodbye.”

Her cheeks went pink, but her lips fell into a thin line of determination. “I'll wait in the car,” she said sweetly. “It shouldn't take long.”

“ _Ouch,_ ” he said. “Consider my ego duly punctured.”

“I should be so lucky,” she said, gesturing at the door. “After you.”

“Fine,” he said, “But just you'll know, I 've already met my quota of damsel rescuing for the decade. If you get abducted again, it's on your head!”

“Oh yeah, you're a knight in shining armour,” Elena said.

“Bite me.”

~~~*~~*~~*~~~

Bree was still in the bar, clearing up, when he entered through the back door. Oliver had obviously not thought to give her a heads up. Deliberately, he scuffed his foot, smirking as her head bobbed up.

We were just leaving. I wanted to say goodbye,” he said, as she slowly turned.

"Good to see you again, Damon,” she said, but she couldn't quite hide the shake in her voice.

“No kiss,” he taunted, as he drank her fear in, tasting it.

I'm full of Vervain. I put it in everything I drink,” she said hurriedly

”And you're you telling me this, why?” he asked, drawing it out.

“Lexi was my friend. How could you?” Bree said lowly, as she stepped back. Did she really think she had a chance of getting away from him? He blurred as she moved, blocking off her exit.

“The tomb can be opened.” she said, panicking as she caught the expression on his face.

“You're _lying!_ ” he spat.

She edged backwards. “Emily's grimoire. Her spell book. If you know how she closed the tomb, the reversal process will be in her book. You can open the tomb.”

“And where is this book?” Damon asked.

“Uh...um...”

Damon could practically hear her mind searching in vain for the right words, as he closed in on her. “You have no idea,” he said.

“I'm telling you the truth,” she said hoarsely.

“And I believe you. My dear _sweet_ Bree, that's why I'm almost sorry.” He reached out, stroking the curve of her face; watching the fear leap wildly in her eyes.

“ _Damon?_ ”

He froze at the sound of Elena's voice. “I asked you to stay in the car,” he said evenly, looking over his shoulder.

Elena snorted. “No, you _ordered_ me to stay in the car, and then strutted off, expecting me to obey. Rather stupid, when you think about it.”

“Yeah, it was,” Bree said softly.

Hearing something in her voice, Damon looked back at her, just as her hand slammed in his chest, He saw the glint of a silver chain entwined in her fingers, and agony burst through his chest as he flew through the air.

He hit the wall, the brickwork slamming into his back, and pain roared through him. He fell unconscious.

 

~~~*~*~*~~~

 

“ _Damon. Damon?_ ” A hand shook his shoulder, and his head exploded with pain.

“Remove your hand, or I'll remove it from you,” he said - or at least he tried. The words melded together and became slurred as they left his mouth. He tasted his own blood and frowned, puzzled. It tasted wrong, metallic...but strangely familiar.

 _“Damon? Please, wake up, you're beginning to scare me.”_ It was Elena's voice, but it sounded curiously dulled. Where were the little hitches of breath he usually heard between her words, and her scent...where was her scent?”

“ _Oh, God, you're hot...and your wounds, they're not healing....”_

“Bree,” he said, his mouth felt swollen, and it hurt like a bitch. He opened his eyes, and Elena's face swam into view, surrounded by a halo of the morning sun – how long had he been out?

“Yeah, I saw that part,” she said, “Whatever she did, she threw you clean across the room with it.”

Damon squinted at her. Her face was now in focus, but details was missing. He took her hand and pulled her close, wincing as his body protested. “Something's off. My ribs are cracked and they're not mending. I'm covered in my own blood, and I can't....can't _smell_ it. I can't smell you. Your scent is gone.”

Elena's nose wrinkled. “Okay, that definitely goes under the category of TMI,” she said uncomfortably.

“You don't understand,” Damon said hoarsely. “I should be starving right now. My hunger should be screaming at me. I should be ripping out your neck and feeding....but there's nothing, only pain.”

Elena gave him a half exasperated, half fearful look. “I've already saved your life today,” she said. “Don't make me regret it this soon.”

Damon rolled his eyes, and then moaned as pain fired through every nerve of his body. “Shit. Whatever she did, it did a real number on me. Help me up.”

“I knew this trip was a bad idea,” she said. “There's no such thing as leaving your troubles behind. They just follow you around.”

“You're beginning to sound like a fucking fortune cookie,” Damon snapped, as pain shot down one leg.

“And you're beginning to sound like a grumpy old fart,” Elena shot back. “So far, in the last twenty four hours, I've been run off the road by a vampire and kidnapped by a second one, I really don't need to be bitched at by a third...” her voice trailed off as he leaned on her shoulder and hauled himself to his feet.

“Cat got you tongue?” he snarked.

“Damon, I think there's something seriously wrong with you,” she said quietly, as she guided him to a chair. “Your cuts haven't even begun to close over, and your skin is too warm.” She grasped at his wrist and he tried to shake her off. It didn't work, so he scowled at her instead, to cover his panic. What was wrong with him?

“Damon,” she said softly, after going stock still. “Your heart is going crazy.”

“Don't be stupid,” Daomnn said sharply. “My heart beats like clockwork. All vampires do. Keeps the blood pumping.

“Could it be because you've been injured...?”

“No,” he muttered, “It doesn't work like that – not for vampires.”

“Not for Vampires,” she echoed, before grabbing his hand. On any other given day, he'd have ripped her head off before her sticky little fingers had even touched the ring. But, for some strange reason, he just wasn't fast enough at the moment. Bree had hit him good and _hard_.

With a sharp tug, she pulled the ring off , and Damon just stared blankly at her, as he tried to process what was happening. He was sitting in the broad daylight without his ring on, and he wasn't turning to ash...

A cold chill ran through him, and he went to that place inside, the place he always went when he was hungry, or angry, or just plain bored.

Nothing happened.

Absolutely nothing.

“Fuck,” he said.

“Not any time soon, I think,” Elena said, looking amused.

Damon narrowed his eyes at her. “This is not funny, Elena.”

“I think that depends on your point of view,” she said gleefully. “Stefan is going to go _nuts_.”

“Elena,” Damon said lowly. “ _I'm_ going to go nuts in a second, if you don't go and find me some painkillers.”

“You're going to need a lot more than painkillers,” Elena said.

“Well, they'll have to do, since I don't exactly carry health insurance,” Damon said.

Elena's face sobered. “Oh my God, this is real...you're-.”

“Do _not_ say it!” Damon half barked, half coughed. “And it won't be for long, if I can help it. I was never really that fond of my life the first time around.”

“Don't say that,” Elena said quietly. “Don't ever say that. That is _not_ an option, do you hear?”

Damon frowned at her, for a moment puzzled. Then, it hit him. “Relax, Elena, I'm not thinking of topping myself,” he said. “I've got very attached to my life over the last century. Old age, however, does not hold many attractions for me. I _like_ being a Vampire.”

“So that's it?” Elena asked. “You're not even going to give it a try? Stefan would--”

“I'm not Stefan,” Damon cut in. “So let's not go there.” He tried to sit up, and bit back a scream of pain. “Do you know how to wrap ribs?” he asked shortly.

Elena bit her lip. “Can you talk me through it?” she eventually asked.

“I guess I'm going to have to, aren't I?” Damon said, with a sigh.

Elena pulled her hair back and knotted it. “I'll find the first aid box. Don't go anywhere while I'm gone.”

Damon let out a snort. “I don't think that's going to be an issue.”

~~~*~*~*~~~

His first meal as a human consisted of two codeine Elena had found in the first aid box and glass of water. The chalky after taste was less than appetising, and he almost gagged on the horsepills, but the pain eased. Whatever Bree kept in her first aid box, it sure the hell wasn't the over the counter stuff.

His stomach growled, and Damon looked down at it quizzically. Elena laughed.

“We'd better lay off the food until after we bandage your ribs,” she said.

“Afraid I'll barf it up on your shoes?” Damon asked wryly.

“Pretty much, yeah,” Elena admitted, eyeing his t-shirt as she produced a pair of scissors. “You have two options – lift your arms, or let me cut you out of it.”

Damon eyed the scissors. “Seems to me you've already made up your mind - have you got a license for that thing?”

“Smart ass,” she muttered, as she cut into the fabric.

“I'll have you know this t-shirt is Armani.”

“If this t-shirt is Armani, I'll eat my...” her voice stuttered to a halt as she eyed his ribs. He glanced down, they were already a mottled mess of bruising, but at least there was no bone poking though.

“Oh, Damon, I think you should see a doctor,” Elena said softly.

“No _doctors,_ ” Damon said. “Neither of us know how freaky the blood work of a 140 year old Vampire turned human is.”

 _“Better freaky than dead.”_

 _“Elena, just patch me up and get me to Stefan. He'll do the rest.”_

 _Elena gave him a glare.“Don't you dare even think about it” she said._

 _Damon sighed, but his ribs protested. “Don't dare what?” he wheezed._

 _“You know what!” She unrolled the bandage with an angry tug, and Damon eyed her warily. He was seeing Elena in a whole new light, now he was human. Force to be reckoned with, didn't even seem to cover the bases._

 _“Whatever you say, Elena,” he said eventually._

 _“Say, it Damon. _Promise_ me you won't get yourself turned until you've least tried being human,” she demanded._

“Is there at least a time scale on this promise?”

“ _Damon!_ ”

“I promise,” he said, lying through his teeth.

Her eyes narrowed, but the sharp nod she gave him, told him she believed him.

~~~*~*~*~~~

The codeine began to wear off about two hours into their trip home, and there had been nothing to replace it in the first aid box. Elena had stopped at a gas station and bought a packet of Tylenol, but Damon had popped three in one go and they still barely made a dent in the pain. What he wouldn't give for some morphine, or a good old fashioned opium pipe.

He caught Elena looking at him through the rear view mirror, a worried expression on her face.

“Relax, Elena,” he said. “I'm not going to pop my clogs before we get there.”

Her answer was to put her foot on the pedal. Guess she still hadn't made up her mind about whether he had suicidal tendencies or not. Which meant she'd probably watch him like a hawk over the next few days. He grimaced, and eyed Elena as the speedometer suddenly notched up another ten miles. They were now doing close to ninety – and she called _him_ a road hog.

He felt his eyes close, despite the pain, and wondered if he was falling unconscious or just falling asleep.

Apparently, Elena was wondering the same thing, because he felt the engine rev yet again just before he passed out..

~~~*~*~*~~~

The first thing he was aware of, when he came to, was that the car had come to a halt. The second thing he was aware of was Elena's voice.

“It's not what you think, Stefan.”

“Elena, I know you like to see the good in everyone, but Damon is manipulating you. I'm not going to let you get hurt in another one of his little games.”

“Stefan, no, you don't understand,” Elena began, but it was too late. The back door was wrenched open, and Stefan had reached into the car and pulled Damon out. He dangled in the air as Stefan glared at him.

“Stefan, no, please, you've got to listen to me,” Elena pleaded, as she stumbled out of the driver's seat.

Stefan ignored her. “You think I don't know what you're doing, Damon?” he demanded. “It's always the same game with you.”

Damon gave out a strangled laugh. “Oh, I can pretty much guarantee that the last couple of days was a game changer,” he snorted.

“Why you little-”

“Stefan, _no_ ”

Damon felt himself fly through the air, passing through the open door of the lodge, and he hit the hall floor with a bang, skidding into the wall. His ribs burned with pain, his breath was agonisingly shallow, and he could feel his sight darken around the edges as he lifted his head Stefan make a silhouette against the door.

“Enough,” Stefan said, “I've had enough. Time to make you-” He came to a standstill, his face blanking with puzzlement as he hands pushed against the empty space that filled the door jamb.

Damon laughed, wincing with pain as he tried to prop himself up on his elbows. “Oh, this is priceless,” he gasped. “You're _not_ fucking invited in.”

He passed out.


	2. Chapter 2

**PART TWO**

Damon woke up handcuffed to his bed. Not a first, but usually he had company. He eyed the cuffs dubiously before noticing Elena at the edge of the bed, frowning at him.

“Kinky,” he drawled. “I didn't think you had it in you.”

“Think of it as my insurance policy,” Elena said, with a quirk of her lips.

“What? Afraid I'll still bite you?” He smirked. “Only if you really want me to.”

Her lips twitched again, but her shoulders fell into that familiar slant that Damon had privately dubbed her 'I may look real sweet but I'm as stubborn as hell' pose. “You're a terrible liar,” she said. “So you're going to stay right there until Stefan's blood passes through your system.”

 _Ah_. He was so used to having accelerated healing, the lack of pain hadn't even registered until now. “You realise they are a few bodily functions that need to be addressed now that I'm human,” he pointed out. “Food, toilet... sponge baths....” The look she gave him told him she refused to be baited.

“There is an alternative,” she said, and Damon sighed as he saw the glint in her eye.

“You're going to take all the fun out of this, aren't you?”

“You can't leave him stuck outside forever,” she pointed out.

“ _Try_ me.”

“ _Damon!_ ”

“Oh, no, you don't get to be all judgey on me. It isn't _you_ who’s chained to the bed. How did you manage that, by the way?

Her cheeks went pink. “I...uh...got some help.”

Damon's gave her an amused look. “Is this x-rated?”

“Hardly,” Elena said, rolling her eyes. “Bonnie isn't exactly your biggest fan.”

“You're not even going to leave me with any illusions are you?”

“More like delusions,” Elena said sharply, tapping her foot impatiently. “Well?”

Damon gave the handcuffs an experimental tug. Less than twenty four hours ago, he'd have ripped the handcuffs from the bedposts with barely a shrug. He scowled as his stomach growled.

“This is extortion,” he declared.

“You point being?” Elena asked sweetly.

Damon drew in a breath, before bellowing, “Stefan Salvatore, brother dearest, _do_ come in.”

Elena turned on her heels. “See, that wasn't so hard, wasn't it?”

“Hey, where are you going?” he called after her.

“Getting you something to eat.”

He jangled the handcuffs. “Didn't you forget something?” he shouted.

Her laughter tinkled down the hall, and Damon threw his head back on the pillow. Could his day get any worse.

“How did she do it?”

Damon looked at Stefan, who had appeared at the bottom of the bed. He didn’t look happy.

“Your guess is as good as mine, Brother,” Damon said, suddenly feeling tired again. “I”m afraid you're going to have to track down the witch-”

A blur, and Stefan was suddenly leaning over him, eye to eye. “ _How_.”

Damon’s mind went hazy, and his mouth seemed to move of it's own volition. “I saw something silver in her hand...It all happened so fast.”

“ _Tell me **every, single detail**_ ”

“I...I...”

“Stefan!”

The haze abruptly faded as Elena's voice broke Stefan's concentration

“Tell me you weren't doing what I think you were doing,” she said flatly.

“I needed to know, Elena,” Stefan said. “And you know as well as I that every time Damon's lips move, another lie pops out.”

Elena gave him a cool look before deliberately unclasping the chain around her neck and stalking towards the bed.

“What are you doing, Elena?” Stefan asked.

“Yeah, Elena, what the hell are you doing?” Damon asked mockingly, not letting the relief show in his voice. “I’m not sure your locket will go with my handcuffs and chains ensemble.”

Elena hesitated, and Damon felt something settle in the pit of his stomach as he saw indecision flicker in her eyes. Something told him he was about to be treated to another one of her 'bright' ideas. Why hadn’t he kept his big mouth shut?

“If you're going to compel him, you might as well use it for something useful,” she said.

Damon suddenly realised what she was thinking. “Don't you dare!”

Elena looked away from him. “Make sure he doesn't kill himself,” she said firmly, before adding, “And that he doesn't ask another vampire to turn him.”

“Elena, I’ll never forgive you,” Damon said warningly. Her mouth tightened but she continued to ignore him.

“I’m not sure this is a good idea,” Stefan said.

“Damn straight it isn’t ,” Damon added. He may as well be a ghost in the room for all the attention they were giving him. The Elena and Stefan show had come to town, and it seemed _he_ didn’t have a speaking part.

“One week,” Elena said. “Just one week.”

Stefan moved uncomfortably. “And what happens then...” he began.

Damon groaned as he watched Elena turned the puppy dog eyes on him and Stefan caved like a house of cards. “One week?” he muttered.

“One week,” Elena repeated firmly.

Slowly, Stefan rounded the bed and grasped his chin so he couldn't look away.

“Don’t do this,” Damon said, desperation creeping in.

Stefan sighed. “ _Damon , listen carefully to what I say..._ ”

~~~*~*~*~~~

Silently, Damon sat at the table, drinking the tea Elena had laced with vervain. Rage and frustration boiled through him. If there was one thing Damon hadn’t missed from his time as a human, it was the feeling of helplessness. Between the war and his father’s expectations, it had seemed he had little control over his life.

Katherine had changed all that.

And Stefan had made one very vital mistake when he’d compelled him. He didn't make Damon forget that.

His mind worked overtime as he devised a plan. One thing was for certain, he was going to make pretty damned sure he didn't run out of vervain. Compel him once, shame on Stefan, compel him twice....

“Bree...she was a friend of Lexi's,” Stefan said.

Damon nodded. “Bumped into Lexi's lover too – as I'm sure Elena has already told you.”

“Elena said she turned him,” Stefan said, the statement a half question.

Damon rolled his eyes. “Of course she turned him, Stefan, she _loved_ him, and there's nothing romantic about old age and diapers.”

Stefan gave him a long measured look. “You don't think Lexi wouldn't have preferred to have grown old with him?”

“Stefan,” Damon said pointedly. “Bree was her friend, remember? If Lexi wanted to be human again, don't you think she would have obliged?”

Stefan nodded thoughtfully, and Damon could practically feel the tension rise in the air. Technically, Stefan and Elena had already had the _talk_ , but Elena was now seventeen – what about when she was twenty seven, or thirty seven...

“Lexi may not have wanted it, but I do,” Stefan said quietly, catching Elena's eyes. Ah, young love... Stefan really should know better.

But he wasn't going to raise any objections, the sooner he got his dear brother out of the house, the better. Without Stefan's super strength to back her up, Elena's demands were dust in the wind, and it was amazing what they overlooked when they tried to put a straight jacket on his free will. Not once, for instance, did they mention not getting Katherine out of the tomb.

Idiots. It was like they didn’t they know him at all.

~~~*~*~*~~~

Elena eyed Damon across the table. She didn’t trust his sudden meekness. Had she gone too far, asking Stefan to compel him? All she wanted was for him to try being human for a while.

A small little voice in the back of her mind asked her what was she trying to prove? Why did she care? She had to admit to herself she was being more than a little selfish. If she could get Damon to embrace his humanity, to willingly hold onto it, then maybe he’d let go of Stefan, even forgive him... She shook her head, feeling foolish. Human or Vampire, Damon was still Damon, and the problem was still, as ever, Katherine.

Elena froze as she came to a realisation. Of _course_ , Damon hadn’t given up on Katherine yet. That was why he was so quiet. He was plotting...as he ate his vervain laced tea.

 _I am such an **idiot**_

“Elena,” Stefan said quietly, breaking her line of thought. He inclined his head towards the den and Elena grimaced, but got to her feet.

“You two hurry on back, now, do you hear?” Damon said slyly as she left the table.

Elena bit her lip worriedly. She wondered how she’d gotten to know Damon well enough to know when he was very angry. Maybe she should have left him chained to the bed, after all. The image of Damon handcuffed to the bed popped back into her head, and she felt her cheeks redden again. _Okay_ , maybe not.

“I think Damon is still going to try and break Katherine out of the tomb,” Elena said.

“That pretty much goes without saying,” Stefan said dryly. “But there’s not much he can do now that he’s human. Can you really see Bonnie helping him, now that he’s unable to terrorise her?”

Elena smirked, Stefan had a point. “You always know the right thing to say,” she teased.

“You may not think that in a minute,” Stefan said ruefully.

Elena frowned. “Why?”

“I'm going to Atlanta,” Stefan said.

“But you can’t go now. What about Damon?” Elena burst out. “He needs you here.”

“Damon stopped needing me a long time ago, Elena, if he ever needed me in the first place,” Stefan said. “And I have to know if there is a way to become human again....I _need_ to know.”

Elena took a deep breath, trying not panic. “When are you going?”

“Now.”

“ _What?_ ”

“The longer I stay, the colder Bree’s trail gets,” Stefan said. .

Impulsively, Elena reached out, clutching at his sweater, feeling the soft wool under her fingers. She pulled him close and he gave into her like he always did. His chin rested on her head, his hands stroking her hair. She breathed him in. Stefan, her haven.

“I love you,” she mumbled into his chest.

“I love you too,” he said back. “But – don't you see – if I can get Bree to make me human, then we can be together,”

“We're already together,” Elena protested.

“Yes,” he admitted. “But I’m still a Vampire, Elena, have you really given any thought to what that means?”

She jerked her head back and glared at him. “Do you really think I haven't thought about this. Of course I have, Stefan, but it doesn't matter to me. As long as I have you, it's enough.”

“But it could be perfect,” Stefan quietly said. “I want you to have a normal life, Elena, a _good_ life, with kids and a partner you can grow old with. I'll be back before you know it. I promise.”

He kissed her. Another good bye kiss; how many of those have they had?

Elena watched silently as he walked upstairs to pack. He didn't look back, didn't even hesitate. The door closed softly, and Elena hugged herself, drawing little comfort from it as her mind reeled.

“Well, that didn’t take him long,” Damon drawled, from behind her.

Elena whirled on her feet. “You!” she bit out, glad for someone to take her frustration out on. “You aren’t going to go near Bonnie, do you hear me?”

“Sorry, Elena,” Damon drawled, “You are not a Vampire and now, thanks to you, I’m now chock full of vervainy goodness. No more commands and demands - and shouldn’t you be toddling on home?”

Elena crossed her arms stubbornly. “And leave you here by yourself? Not likely.”

“Fun, devil may care Elena has left the building ,I see,” Damon observed.

“She fled the premises the moment human I-wanna-die-and-be-turned Damon arrived on the scene,” she said dryly.

“Ah, ah, ah,” Damon tutted, “That’s specist. It’s all a matter of perspective, after all. From my point of view, settling for a mere three score and ten is practically throwing in the towel.”

Elena rolled her eyes. “Very funny.”

“You may not have noticed, Elena, but I’m not laughing,” Damon said flatly. “I’ve been trying to get Katherine out of that tomb for a hundred and forty years, and now I’m so close I can _taste_ it. If you think a mere hindrance like _mortality_ is going to stop me, then you don’t know me very well.”

He stalked out of the room before Elena could drum up an answer, and she found herself standing alone in Salvatore home. Had it really only been two days since she’d decided to be with Stefan and take that final step? So much had changed in such a short time.

“Welcome to my life,” Elena sighed into the empty air.

~~~*~*~*~~~

It was like crawling through molasses. Every movement Damon made seemed to creep slowly and his heart seemed to speed up for no good reason. He actually felt short of breath after running up the stairs. Changing his clothes took minutes instead of moments, and the house seemed more unwieldy and harder to navigate. His sense of smell was almost nonexistent and his eyesight felt impaired, although memory reminded him his eyesight was quite good - for a human.

 

This was a nightmare - to think there had actually been times he’d _missed_ this. Obviously, nostalgia had painted a prettier picture of humanity.

He pulled on a leather jacket and hunted down his car keys. he needed to get out of this house before he exploded. Getting drunk as a skunk sounded real good right now.

~~~*~*~*~~~

It seemed that it didn’t matter where or not you were mortal. The Grill’s music still sounded like crap, and their bourbon still tasted like over priced swill. He didn’t dare touch the peanuts. He was mortal now, who knew what they would do to them.

The guy sitting to next to him at the bar kept staring at him out of the corner of his eye, but Damon couldn’t place him. Was his memory going as well? Or was that just the bourbon talking? He’d already spotted Elena’s brother in a booth, cosying up to some under aged hottie...now _she’d_ looked strangely familiar. Maybe he’s known her mother...or grandmother....whatever.

He gave a mental shrug and downed another shot. He was here to drown his sorrows, and he was hellbent on fulfilling his mission.

“... you’re Stefan’s brother, aren’t you? I’m Alaric Saltzman, his history teacher.”

The words permeated Damon’s brain, and he squinted at the guy beside him. One of Stefan’s teachers. Great, just great, was he about to be treated to a lecture about truancy? That would just about complete his day.

Across the floor, Damon heard Jeremy’s date laugh out loud, and he froze. He swerved in his seat, and stared at the girl. Was that who he thought it was? She glanced up and caught his eye, and Damon suddenly knew his day was looking up.It was Pearl’s daughter, Annabelle.

He stood up, leaving the teacher dangling mid sentence, and noted her eyes narrowing. She jerked her head in the direction of the back exit and Damon nodded, understanding. She didn’t leave him waiting long.

“Hello, Damon,” she said, slamming him up against the wall as if he was made of air.

“And hello to you too,” he huffed, “Easy with the super strength, I’m a bit on the breakable side at the moment.”

She frowned, looking him up and down. “Are you... _human_?”

“What gave it away?” Damon asked sarcastically as he waited in vain for the pain to ease. Shit, shit, shit, he hated being this vulnerable.

“How?” she asked.

He decided not to beat around the bush. “Witch.”

“That must have been one very powerful witch - what did she ask for in exchange? Your first born?”

“You think I asked for this? Are you _crazy_?”

She eyed him dubiously. “Let me get this straight; some witch did this to you against your will?”

“You’d have to have been there,” he ground out.

“I’ll bet,” she said, folding her arms. “So what do you want?”

“That depends, what do _you_ want?” he countered.

Anna rolled her eyes. “Seriously?” She turned to leave.

“Walk away and you’ll never get what you want from the Gilbert kid,” Damon said.

“What makes you think I need something from Jeremy,” she asked, coming to a halt.

“Actually, I said want, not _need_ ,” he said. “But thanks for clearing that up for me.”

“Have you got a death wish or something?” Anna asked tartly. “Because it can be arranged.”

“Why are you here?” he asked grimly, ignoring the threat.

“The same reason you’re here, Salvatore, to get into the tomb.”

Damon blinked. “Why?”

Anna snorted. “You really are totally self obsessed, aren’t you,” she sad. “You’re not the only one who lost someone that day, Damon. My mother is trapped in there too.”

“Pearl?” Damon asked. “I though she’d managed to get away.”

“You thought wrong.”

Damon’s eyes narrowed. “What do you need from the Gilbert kid?”

She hesitated. “John Gilbert’s journal,” she eventually admitted.

Damon crossed his arms and smirked. “I think we may be able to come to an arrangement.”

“And what kind of arrangement would that be?”

“Your brawn, my connections... interested?” He quirked an eyebrow.

“Do I have any choice? Other than ripping your heart out,that is?”

“Ah, _ah_ , temper, temper - what’s in the journal?”

“Do you think I’m completely stupid?” Anna demanded, exasperated.

“I think you need me to get to the journal and supply the witch – unless you've got one going cheap?”

Her eyes flickered. “As irritating as ever, I see.”

“It's a gift. What’s in the journal?”

“Cross me, and you'll regret the day you were born,” she said flatly.

 

And then she told him.

~~~*~*~*~~~

Four sobering cups of coffee later, Damon found himself walking up the path to the Gilbert's house. It was strange not being able to hear all the beating hearts inside. He knocked politely on the door, seeing as his usual entrance through a second story window was no longer an option. Elena opened the door.

“Where have you been?” she scolded, like a mother hen. It was all Damon could do not to laugh at her.

“Chilling at the Grill,” he drawled. "Why? Missed me?”

“As _if_ ,” she scoffed.

The smell of pizza wafted from the kitchen, and Damon felt his stomach rumble.

“You're like a walking dustbin,” Elena said, hearing it. “Come on, I might as well feed you, seeing as you're here.”

“Take-out, the new food group,” Damon teased, following her.

Jeremy looked up as they entered the kitchen. “Hey, man,”he said, waving a slice in greeting.

Damon swiped a slice from the box and took a hungry bite. Taste was about the only sense he had that didn't seem diminished by becoming human again. He may have to actually start watching his waistline. How depressing.

“So,” he said. “What is new in the house of Gilbert?”

“Dude, don't ask,” Jeremy said, with a roll of his eyes. “Jenna is still pissed about that road trip you took with Elena. How did that happen again?”

“ _Jeremy._.”

Jeremy grinned unrepentantly. “And how is life in the house of Salvatore?”

Damon shrugged. “Same old, same old, been looking through some old family stuff.”

“Oh yeah? So have I,” Jeremy volunteered.

Elena's eyes narrowed as she smelled a rat. “Something we can help you with, Damon?” she asked sweetly.

Damon have her a knowing smile. “Mind if I use the facilities?”

“Upstairs,” Gilbert volunteered. “First door on the left”

Elena watched him leave the room with narrowed eyes, but she couldn’t exactly follow him to the toilet without some very pointed questions from Jeremy. He trotted up the stairs, loudly banged the bathroom door, and then tiptoed as quietly as he could to Jeremy’s room. His bag was on this desk, and Damon carefully rooted inside, bottling down his triumph when his hand curled around the journal. Quickly he slipped it inside his jacket, and made it to the top of the stairs before Elena came looking for him.

She crossed her arms and gave him a suspicious look as he descended the steps. “What are you up to?” she asked lowly.

“Just being neighbourly,” Damon drawled. “Any pizza left?”

Elena rolled her eyes but led him into the kitchen.

~~~*~*~*~~~

Anna was sprawled on the couch when he got home, sipping a glass of blood she’d obviously purloined from his supply.

“Hope you don’t mind,” she said, lifting the glass. “It’s not as if you need it, anymore.”

“Help yourself,” he said, as he made a beeline for the bourbon. Sobriety was overestimated. She watched as he poured, her impatience rolling off her in waves.

“Well?” she asked.

Damon pulled the journal from his jacket. “Ask and ye shall receive,” he said.

In a blur, she was across the room, snatching the journal from his hand.

“You’re welcome, I’m sure,” he drawled.

She ignored him as she flicked through the pages. “I can’t find it,” she muttered.

“Allow me,” Damon said, as he plucked the journal back and looked at the open page, reaching for a table lamp when he realised his now too human eyes couldn't make out the faded ink in the dim light. He leaned on the table and turned the pages, looking for the days surrounding the events at the burning of the church. There were no references to the Emily’s Grimoire, no map with an X marking the spot...nothing except a few oh so memorable words, that he'd heard drop from his father's lips so many times, he had lost count.

“ _All my real secrets I shall carry to my grave.”_

He let out a breath of laughter, before schooling his face. Father had always liked to play with words.

“What? What is it?” Anna asked urgently. “Did you find out where it is?”

Damon gave her a long look. Ideally, this was the moment he should freeze her out. Walk away without looking back. But there was a desperation on her face he couldn't quite turn away from. Also, there was the not so little fact that Annabelle could literally rip his heart out and do a tango on it, and there was nothing he could do about it in his current oh-so-human condition.

He was going to kill Bree when he found her. He was going to kill her slowly.

“We’ll need a witch,” he told her.

“Easier said than done.”

“There’s a couple of Bennet witches still knocking around, but I’m not exactly their favourite person,” Damon said, “You’ll have to do the convincing.”

“She quirked an eyebrow. “Like that, is it?”

“We’ll meet at the tomb,” he replied. “You’ll bring the witches, I’ll bring the Grimoire.”

“She gave him a long look, then nodded. “Tomorrow night?”

“Make it midnight,” he said.

She smirked. “I’ll bring snacks.”


	3. Chapter 3

**PART THREE**

Damon woke slowly, his head pounding with a hangover, and looked around for what had woken him. His cellphone was humming insistently. It was Elena. “This had better be good,” he said, as he answered.

“ _Somebody has taken Bonnie!_ ” Elena said.

Ah. Anna had started early, then.

“And you’re calling me because?” he asked.

“ _Damon!_ ”

Damon sighed as he rolled out of bed, ignoring the stabbing pain in his skull. “Have you reported it to the Sheriff?” he asked.

“ _And tell her what? Why hello, Sheriff Forbes, my witchy best friend has been kidnapped by the monster of the week?_ ”

“It could be a regular old fashioned kidnapping,” Damon prevaricated.

“ _Damon, she can set people on fire with her mind. Only something supernatural could kidnap her - Stefan isn’t answering his phone, and her grandmother won’t talk to me, except to say she’s dealing with it._ ”

“Well then, problem solved,” Damon said, “Grandma Witch is on the case.”

“ _I’m on my way over to your place_ ,” Elena said firmly.

“I don’t need a babysitter, Elena-” But it was too late, she’d already hung up.

 

~~~*~*~*~~~

“Do you think it was that vampire that tried to run me off the road?” was the first thing Elena asked when he answered the door.

Damon shrugged, “Possible, I suppose.”

“That’s all you’ve got - it’s possible?” Elena asked, exasperated. “This is _Bonnie_.”

“Who is _your_ friend, not mine,” Damon pointed out. “In fact, if memory serves me right, she hates my guts.”

“You tried to kill her. What do you expect?”

“The question is, what do _you_ expect?” Damon countered. “I’m a plain old human nowadays, remember?”

With a huff, Elena dropped into an armchair. “She’s my best friend, Damon,” she said. “We’ve known each other all our lives. I can’t just sit around and do nothing when she’s in danger.”

Damon sighed, feeling a twinge of regret as he looked at the lost expression on her face. He pushed it down ruthlessly. “You said you thought Bonnie’s grandmother knew something,” he reminded her.

“Yeah,” Elena said.

“And she said that she was taking care of it?”

Elena grimaced. “That’s what she _said._ ”

“Well, then, maybe we should let her do that,” Damon said. “Lets face it, she’s better qualified than both of put together at the moment.”

Elena sighed. “I wish Stefan would answer his phone.”

And now they were getting to the heart of the matter. “Relax, Elena, Stefan is lot harder to kill than he looks - I should know.”

“Ha, _ha_.”

“Yeah, I’m a real comedian,” he drawled, eyeing Elena, who seemed suddenly very interested in her hands.

“What if he doesn’t find her?” she asked.

“What is it you’re asking, exactly, Elena?” Damon asked slowly.

“How long is he going to continue looking for her - a week, a month, a year? He has this picture inside his head, of how things are _supposed_ to be. He never-” She broke off, as if suddenly remembering who she was talking to.

She looked so vulnerable, so unhappy, that Damon felt the urge to comfort her somehow. _She had Stefan compel you,_ , he reminded himself. _She took away your free will. You can't forgive that._ But another voice reminded him that she'd saved his life, and put her own life on the line to do it.

 

“For a Vampire, this is only two viable endgames in a situation like this, Elena,” he said. “He leaves you, or he turns you. You don't want to be turned and he doesn't want to leave you, so that pretty much sets up a situation which gets you dead. Then along comes Bree, who dangles a third choice in front of him like a juicy carrot.” Damon shrugged. “He's never going to give up, Elena, he wants you too much.”

Elena bit her lip. “You two are so alike sometimes, it's scary,” she muttered.

Damon laughed. “Stefan and I are nothing alike, Elena,”

She raised a knowing eyebrow. “Oh no? So what would you have done in Stefan's position?” Elena challenged.

“The point is moot,” he said. “ I'd have turned you the moment the first random Vampire turned up in town. I'd have rather you pissed at me than dead.”

She gave him a long, measuring look, before getting to her feet. “I'm going to visit Bonnie's grandmother,” she said. “You coming?”

“Sorry, got a few errands to run,” Damon said.

Elena folded her arms stubbornly. “You can't just stay cooped up here getting drunk, Damon. For one thing, I don't think your liver can take it. “

“And what do you suggest I do, Elena?” Damon asked.

“I don't know...get a job, a date, a life,” Elena pronounced.

“Have kids, get fat and old, and die?”

Her chin tilted up. “What's wrong with that?” she asked.

“I'm in love with a Vampire, Elena,” he said bluntly. “You of all people know how that ends – and it isn't with 2.4 kids.”

“Katherine is in the tomb, Damon,” Elena said. “And the crystal was destroyed.”

“Your point being?” Damon asked. “Just tell me one thing – be honest – if it were Stefan inside that tomb, would you just give up.

Her eyes flickered away. “No,” she admitted softly.

He smiled. “There you go, Miss Gilbert,” he said.

She reached out and touched his arm. He froze, looking down at her distrustfully as she caught his eyes. “No, I wouldn't just give up,” she said. “I would try everything in my power to save him, but I also would try to forgive myself if I failed, because I think that would be what Stefan would want...and if Katherine really loved you, that is what she'd want too.” She picked up her bag. “I'll call you later,” she said. “See how you're doing.”

~~~*~*~*~~~

The gravestone just had his name.

 _Guiseppe Salvatore_

It seemed his father had found a way to taunt him with his inadequacies even from the grave. Over a century of looking for a way to save Katherine, and his father had kept it out of his reach all that time.

“Hello Father,” Damon said dryly, as he hefted the spade. It was still a few hours until dark, but digging up a coffin without super human strength took time. Luckily, this part of the cemetery wasn't visited anymore. He dug into the ground with the spade and turned the earth over.

Shovelful by shovelful, he opened up the grave. Sweat stuck his t-shirt to his back, and he wished he had thought to bring water. The sun had reached the horizon when the spade hit the coffin with a dull thud. Damon collapsed onto the ground and swept the earth from the lid of the rotting casket. He rammed the spade under the fraying lid, and prised it open. The bundle lay on top of the remains, wrapped in an oilcloth.

“You wily old goat,” Damon muttered, as he retrieved the bundle and let the lid fall. Emily Bennett’s Grimoire; they must have have taken it from her before they burned her at the stake, ungrateful assholes. He switched on his flashlight and shone it on the pages. Well, what do you know, Bree had been telling the truth.

His phone rang, and Damon absently answered it. “Yeah?”

“ _Damon_ ,” said Stefan's voice.

“Well, well, well, if it isn't my errant brother,” Damon drawled. “You realise your beloved is pining away for you?”

“ _Then you_ have _talked to Elena?_ ” Stefan asked urgently.

“This morning,” Damon said absently, as he flicked through the Grimoire. “Tragic, really, she kept on whining about how you wouldn't answer your phone.”

“ _But you haven't talked to her since?_ ”

Something in his voice caught his attention. “What aren't you telling me, Stefan?”

“ _I've been trying to get in contact with her all evening, but she isn't answering her phone._ ”

A cool chill ran up Damon's spine as the possibilities ran through his mind. Was it possible Elena had crossed paths with Anna? “I'll look into it,” he said.

There was a pause on the other end of the phone. “ _Why do I get the feeling you know something I don't?_ ”

“Bye Stefan,” Damon said, as he ended the call. He eyed the phone thoughtfully, and then rang Anna.

“ _Problem?_ ” she asked, answering the phone.

'Not exactly,” he said. “I seem to be a Gilbert short.”

“ _Elena?_ ” Anna asked. “ _I needed her to keep the witch toeing the line. You have a problem with that?_ ”

“She saved my life,” Damon said reluctantly. 'I owe her.”

“ _Huh,_ ” she said. “ _You sure that's all it is?_ ”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“ _I don't know. You just seemed kind of concerned there. Which is funny because I'm pretty sure she's your brother's girlfriend - and you're not stupid enough make that mistake twice, are you?_ ”

“Do us both a favour, Anna, don't try to psychoanalyse me,” Damon said flatly.

“ _Relax, Damon, I'm not going to kill her,_ ” Anna drawled. “ _I'm just going to scare her a little bit. Do you have the Grimoire?_ ”

Damon smiled grimly. “See you at midnight,” he said, hanging up. He looked at the open grave, and found himself wondering what his father would have thought of all this. “I never really knew you at all, did I?" he said, as he stared down at the casket. His mind flitted to Elena. She'd never forgive him for this, but he could live with that.

Ignoring the twinge of misgiving, he stowed the Grimoire inside his jacket, and headed for his car.

Katherine would soon be free.

Nothing else mattered.

~~~*~*~*~~~

Damon leaned against the wall under the shower, feeling the muscles in his shoulders and back protest. He was supposed to meet Anna in less than an hour, and Stefan had already left four messages on his phone. He didn't bother listening to them, there was little point.

He towelled himself down and threw on some clothes, zipping the Grimoire into his jacket once more. He grabbed the satchel he'd filled earlier with a few bags of O-Neg and, slowly, he descended the stairs and walked outside. It was a cloudless, starry night. He had waited for over a century for this, dreamed about this...so why was there a feeling suspiciously like fear creeping through his chest. He shrugged it off, and got into his car. It was too late to second guess himself, this is what he wanted.

There was a party in full swing in the woods when he arrived, and Damon noticed Anna at the edge of one of the bonfires, with Gilbert junior tagging alongside her.

“Jeremy,” he said, nodding as he joined them.

“Damon, hey,” Jeremy said. “Have you seen Elena?”

“Can't say that I have,” Damon drawled. He turned to look at Anna. “Gonna introduce me to your friend, Jeremy?”

“Oh, right - Anna, Damon, Damon, Anna,” Jeremy said vaguely.

“Pleasure, I'm sure,” Damon said.

“Likewise,” Anna said, “About that walk, Jeremy...?”

“Oh, yeah,” Jeremy said, his cheeks colouring. “The walk.”

Damon shook his head. “You kids have fun,” he said.

He watched as she tugged at his arm, and lead him into the trees. Anna threw a look at him over her shoulder and Damon didn't need a translator to figure out its meaning. He nodded and headed in the direction of the ruined church.

It didn't take him long to find it. A light flickered from a gap in the ruined stone, and Damon crept up to it. A flight of stone steps led into the earth and, tentatively, he descended the steps and found a small grubby chamber, lit with flaming torches. His eyes rested on Bonnie, who was tied up and gagged, and propped against the wall. He crossed the room and pulled down Bonnie's gag.

“Where's Elena?” he asked.

“Vampires have her,” Bonnie said lowly.

Damon looked around uneasily. Vampires...as in plural? Anna had left a few things out of the equation.

A shoe scuffed a stone, and Damon turned to see Anna descending the steps, Bonnie's grandmother, Sheila, alongside. Her back was stiff and proud, and she glared at Damon across the room.

“This is all your fault,” she declared flatly.

“I don't see it that way,” Damon said, “Emily should have kept her word – I kept mine.”

Bonnie's eyes widened. “You're in on it?” she said. “But Elena said...” She paused. “You lied to Elena,” she amended. “Lied through your teeth.”

“I warned her,” Damon said. “Not my fault she didn't listen.”

“Vampire or human, you're still a scumbag,” Bonnie said flatly.

Anna rolled her eyes. “Just do what we ask, and Elena won't get hurt.”

“If you meant that, you wouldn't have left her with creepy, stalker guy,” Bonnie said.

“Creepy stalker guy?” Damon echoed.

“She's talking about Noah,” Anna said.

“Noah, the creep that ran Elena off the road,” Bonnie added.

Damon scowled. “ _That_ asshole? That's the guy who went all scary movie on Elena's car?”

“Why do you care?” Anna pointed out. “Elena isn't yours, remember?”

True, thought Damon, but it didn't make him feel any better... It took him a few moments to recognise the sensation as guilt. He blinked. “Let's get this over with,” he muttered, pulling out the Grimoire.

Anna nodded, untying Sheila, who threw Anna a quelling look before stalking across the room and untying Bonnie.

“No funny business,” Anne warmed. “Remember, I know where your family live.

Sheila stiffened, but nodded silently. Anna held out her hand to Damon, who gave her the Grimoire, and she threw a bag on the floor, which clattered. “All the things you said you needed,” she said to Sheila.

Damon leaned against the wall and watched as the Bennetts set up. His mind reeled between excitement at seeing Katherine again and a vague feeling of unease about Elena's safety. His phone buzzed silently in his pocket, a stealthy reminder of Stefan's worry. Sheila began to chant, Bonnie joined in, and the stone began to grind open. The entrance gaped darkly in front of him.

He darted towards it, but Anna's hand wrapped around his arm like a vice.

“Damon,” she said lowly. “There are over a dozen hungry vampires in there. Stay here.”

“Katherine is in there, I _have_ to find her!”

Anna bit her lip. “No, she isn't.”

His chest thumped. “Wh...what?”

“Katherine isn't in there. Damon, she never was. One of the guards smuggled her out of the church before they burned it.”

“You're _lying_.”

There was something almost like pity in her eyes. “I'm sorry, Damon, I would have told you but I needed the Grimoire. You'd better leave, I have to go in now.”

She stepped through the doorway, and into the dark, and Damon stared after her, his chest tightening with panic. Katherine wasn't there?

Behind him, Bonnie's grandmother cried out, and Damon whirled to seee her collapse to the ground. The torches flickered precariously and Bonnie dropped to her knees. Her nose began to bleed.

“You're killing yourself, Bennett,” he said distractedly.

She threw him a dirty look, but kept on chanting. Anna reappeared, Pearl in her arms. “You're done,” she said to Bonnie, before blurring out of the chamber. The torches dimmed, and Bonnie stopped chanting, sobbing as she went to her grandmother's side. On instinct, Damon went to help her, but Bonnie slapped his hands away. “I never want to see your face again, do you hear?” she ground out. “I won't be responsible for what will happen if I do.”

Anger flared through him. “Fine," he bit out, before staggering out of the chamber. He reached the open air, and took a deep gulp.

 _Katherine wasn't there_

His vision blurred, and he blinked furiously, The night had gotten cooler and he found himself shivering. How long had it been since he'd felt the cold?

A groan broke through the night and, frowning, Damon watched a dark heap on the ground move. He turned on his flashlight, and found Jeremy. He checked for a pulse, and noticed the fang marks; great, just great, just what he needed. Reaching down, he pulled Jeremy to his feet, staggering under his weight as he dragged him to his car. A part of him knew he was pretty much working on automatic, doing rather than thinking, but he kept on going, nonetheless.

 _Katherine wasn't... she wasn't...all this time....she wasn't there._

He flinched from the thought, and started the engine. He needed to go home.

~~~*~*~*~~~

The door opened before he even got his keys out and, for a fleeting moment, Damon felt a wave of relief when he thought Stefan had come home. But it wasn't Stefan, it was Elena, and she was _pissed_.

“Oh my God!” she said, her face registering shock as she noticed Jeremy. “What happened? What did you _do_?”

His mouth opened to say it hadn't been him, but he shut it again when he realised it wasn't strictly true. He had known Anna had plans for Jeremy and he hadn't done anything about it. Just as he hadn't done anything about Elena. He wondered how much she knew.

“Noah told me everything,” she said, once they'd laid Jeremy on the couch. “How _could_ you? I _trusted_ you”

He looked at her for a long moment, guilt and grief, and hollow overpowering rage rushing upward. “Bullshit,” he said hoarsely. “You never fucking trusted me. I don't owe you anything, least of all an explanation.”

He should have seen it coming, he supposed, but her hand made contact with his face before he could do anything about it.

“I never want to see you again. Get out of my sight,” she said lowly. Tears were streaming down her face, and he found himself envying her. Why couldn't he cry?

“Seeing as this is _my_ house, I think it's you that's supposed to be doing the leaving, darling,” he drawled. She glared at him with contempt, and then leaned down to help a semi-conscious Jeremy to his feet. He resisted the urge to help her. He'd probably would only get another slap for his trouble.

She left the house without saying another word, and Damon fell onto the couch, this chest heaving as reality sank in. Over a hundred years trying to save a woman who didn't need saving.

He began to laugh, tears forming as he collapsed back on the couch.

He guessed the joke was on him.


End file.
